


Promise?

by LadySophrosyne



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, catradora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySophrosyne/pseuds/LadySophrosyne
Summary: Adora’s nerves singed at the nearness, the softness of her. She turned her head to Catra, eyes open wide and searching now. Catra moved her pausing finger down along Adora’s throat. Their mouths tingled with this proximity’s promise; the kind of tingling that goes no deeper and no further than the surface; a microscopic bedlam of want.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100





	Promise?

Adora awoke not due to a shrill of sirens, but just following a groan of energy winding down. It was abrupt silence that stole her from slumber, not bustlings, percussions, or beeps. Being reared under military turbulence had its ‘perks’.

The generator lights gave the room a tawny blush. Across from her, through squinting eyes, she could make out a metal cot of sorts. Affixed to it were cuffs fashioned from a thicker metal—though deformed, broken, somehow? Immediately, she recognized that she was restrained by an identical device. With a cautious wriggle, she confirmed fastenings at her wrists and ankles. Her cuffs appeared to be woefully sound.

Adora heard scurrying from behind her and craned her head backwards. A wisp of clones cluttered past, their radios revealing their destination: “ _ All Acolytes to the Main Server Room. All Acolytes to the Main Server Room. All Acolytes…”  _

The typical translucent barrier to her cell had been replaced by thick vertical bars, presumably with the shift to generator power; how primitive.

Okay. Main power down. Princess Alliance potentially responsible? Sword of Protection whereabouts to be determined. Hordak Prime—last she remembered, he was threatening to baptise her in his fountain of... chlorophyll? 

“Great,” she muttered.

Again, she strained against the unyielding cuffs. 

_ First step, free your limbs.  _

Maybe she could glimpse some answer to manipulating the cuff mechanism from the defunct ones across? Her eyes had adjusted to the dim, and she could now see that the cuffs were splayed like overextended jaws. There were small lacerations running along each cuff’s interior wall.

No sooner had the epiphany hit, like a cue, a voice warm as nutmeg broke the calm.

“Hey, Adora.”

Adora felt a flush surge through her sternum.

“Catra?”

Her cellmate emerged from a dusky quadrant, arms folded, tail meandering sensuously. A slot of light through the bars illuminated a subtle upturn of her lips. 

“I think I like you… powerless, like this, Adora.”

“Catra, please—I know things got messy on the ship, but I promise we all want you there, we’re all trying to understand and overcome and—”

Her plea was clipped by Catra’s index finger to her mouth. A practical interruption; another spill of clones scurried past the cell. 

“Just relax, Adora. Just this once, can’t you quiet down that formulating engine of a brain?”

Adora complied. Silence, thick with unspokenness, heaved around them. Catra’s finger still lay perpendicular to Adora’s slightly parted lips. 

“We should escape—the others might be waiting—oh!”

Catra’s tail had coiled its way around the top of Adora’s thigh, and had begun a curious caress that made her clamp her legs shut. Her eyes followed suit. She was sure her face was iridescent with red.

“Like I said,” Catra cooed, quieter now, but steady, “just relax. Always so ready to give of yourself, Adora. To spring into heroic action…”

Catra placed her mouth just below Adora’s ear.

“Your friends are on the way. I tried the bars. I searched for keys. There’s nothing for us but to wait.”

Adora’s nerves singed at the nearness, the softness of her. She turned her head to Catra, eyes open wide and searching now. Catra moved her pausing finger down along Adora’s throat. Their mouths tingled with this proximity’s promise; the kind of tingling that goes no deeper and no further than the surface; a microscopic bedlam of want. 

“Catra…” It was a question, a confession in two syllables.

“Adora,” with this name, her coolness fractured just a hair, “do you want this?”

She’d forgotten how to speak. Catra had laid waste to those cuffs, had rendered metal jaws defunct, and now her own jaw trembled in defect.

Catra glimpsed down along the line of this underdressed woman. Both of them had been attired for baptism, swathed in simple white tanks and simple white briefs. She watched Adora’s breasts rise and fall in novel haste, watched her nipples exclaim through the thin white fabric, watched her hips fall into subconscious rotary. 

“Adora,” this time, almost a warning, “I can see your body consenting, but I need it from your mouth.”

“I…”

Catra threw her hips over Adora’s in full and avid straddle, and that motion alone was enough to fling a moan from Adora’s mouth.

“ _ Yes _ ,” she gasped, as if she were coming up for air, as if it were the only logical collaboration of her larynx and her lungs, “yes, Catra, I want you.”

She descended upon her powerless prey, lips meeting in frantic appetite. Years of pent-up urges spilled in marbles upon her beloved. Catra’s claws tore down the center of the white tank, and she reached below the tatters for a palmful of tender breast. Soon both hands were thus occupied, Adora bucking into those hot hands and careful talons. Until her hands had mocked her mouth enough, and she leaned in to fill her mouth with Adora’s modest bosom.

The First One thrashed, more resentful than ever of her fastenings. 

“Catra, let me touch you,” she pleaded, more breath than voice.

Catra, rather unwilling to leave her new treats, sat up upon her love, then pulled her shirt up from the bottom, exposing two tan and ample breasts. Striations ran along the outer edges, following the pattern on her arms. She leaned in and lined up their bodies: abdomen to abdomen, breasts to breasts, hips to hips. Her mouth had found Adora’s neck again, and she nibbled, licked, and sipped there, relishing Adora’s sweet smell: somewhere between crisp green apples and orange bergamot, sweetness in contrast with Adora’s petulant squirming. 

Adora was reminded of the dual abandon they’d shared back when things were simple. There was only one truth, the Horde, and one woman she’d ever traipse into playful acts of rebellion with; the day they’d stolen the skiff, her heart fluttered with the danger of it, and here was a new danger alloyed with desire. A desire cavernous and familiar, one that, on the stovetop of her being was never without heat, but whose kettle she never tended—because, why? Here, with Catra’s beautiful body in complete caress against her own, she could not imagine what else could have been so pressing. What career? What campaign? What world-saving quest? What escape plan? This kettle was howling.

A bite on her breast brought her back from past-musing. She yelped.

“Adora, what did I say about turning off your brain?”

“Catra, I’ve… I’ve wanted this for so long, I just—mmm…”

Catra’s hand had positioned itself over the fabric covering her aching place. With slow and sinister precision, she ran her middle finger down Adora’s labial divide, up and down, like a worry stone, faintly polishing the surface of her need. 

The sound that stole from Adora’s throat nearly brought Catra to completion.

Adora’s whole posture was surrender. She leaned her pelvis into Catra’s conniving palm, begging for pressure. Catra complied, though not completely, pressing and gliding with a firmness that was closer to what she knew this ruined creature needed.

“Oh, Catra…”

Adora’s breasts heaved, her abdomen rolled. Eyesight cloaked, mouth agape in pause, ready for the next reply of gratitude. 

Catra found Adora’s ear again. Her whole body purred, a sensation that Adora did not at all fail to appreciate. 

“I would keep you here, in this agony, Adora, for hours if I could. But unfortunately, we’re not on my time.” 

Though she was in control, her tone belied her frailty. They were ruined for each other.

With decisive urgency, Catra pulled away from Adora and made for her ankle cuffs. She dragged one thumb nail through each, Adora twitching below. The sound of that scraping mixed with the precarious nearness of Catra’s claws made her whimper. 

These limbs freed, Catra seized Adora by the knees, and with a single shove, pinned them wide open. Adora’s flexibility came in handy off the battlefield, too. Catra’s tail whipped gleefully behind her.

She seized the white briefs by the band and tore them down the middle. Below a tuft of tamed blonde hair were Adora’s swollen, pearlescent labia, forced apart by Catra’s positioning. An elegant hood hid the sweet bud Catra coveted.

“Here you are, my love,” she cooed, and fell before the treasure.

No sooner had Catra’s tongue greeted her swelling, Adora took in a sharp gasp. She jerked in all axes toward her, hips far from resting on the cot.

“You taste like sweet cream,” Catra said, lapping up the spill. 

Between the vibration of her purr and the genius of her tongue, Adora was undone. Catra faithfully followed the tide of her hips, and, lest she be neglectful, scooped Adora’s breasts into her hands.

An aria of vowels filled the cell, surely spilling into the corridors.

Catra paused her labor to block Adora’s sound with a kiss. 

“Careful, princess,” she cautioned, voice mellifluous with laughter, “we don’t want them coming before you do.”

Adora kissed her again, desperate for the contact her hands were denied. At this point, her trademark ponytail had unraveled itself, and her hair draped down, framing her flushed face. Catra moved some strands aside so she could kiss along her jawline, under her chin, her throat, and trail that sensation all the way back down to the place they both wanted her to return.

Catra explored every petal of her flower, savoring every texture and taste. As far as she was concerned, for right now and for any future, she was destined to serve Adora. She would do anything, be anything, sacrifice anything for the woman writhing below her. The one who deepened her ire and heightened her calm; the one whose moral compass led to her departure, to years of contentious cat-and-mouse. 

_ Whatever will keep her feeling just like this,  _ she thought, gazing up through mismatched eyes, knowing then with clearest certainty that she would never tire of this woman’s jubilant sounds and contortions. 

“Catra… Catra…” Adora thanked, and warned, barely articulate.

Catra echoed her calls with compassionate crooning.

Adora’s ragged breathing gave way to a single cry, both the sound and her spine bent like a question. And then, through the quiet, came the spill, the white heat, saturating her being; and for this fermata’s span, her mind was still. All her faculties complied with bliss.

In the aftermath, she opened her eyes to see Catra nuzzling, nipping, and lapping her labia, like tending to a wound. She wanted nothing more than to kiss her, embrace her, reciprocate her.

“Catra,” she said warmly, with a tinge of complaint. She pulled a few times at the remaining restraints. In full mischief, Catra probed her clitoris one more time, eliciting another cry and full-body spasm. She crawled back up and took a loving kiss, running the back of her fingers over her cheekbone.

“Looking for these?” asked Catra, smirking. Her tail hovered over her shoulder, dangling a set of black keys.

“You little—!” exclaimed an indignant Adora.

Catra unshackled her left hand, and immediately Adora placed her hand on her face, pulling her in for another kiss. That hand slipped down to her neck, her arm, her waist, then back upwards to clasp her breast. 

Catra blindly fumbled to unshackle her right hand, and as soon as she did, Adora flipped their positions, pinning her lover beneath her.

“Upset much, princess?”

“I’m not upset, I’m focused.”

As if to prove it, she sat up, located her hair tie, and secured her hair back. It was only moderately tidy, but it would have to do.

Before she could plan her retaliation, a clamor of footsteps sounded from down the corridor. With a squeak, Adora grabbed Catra and rolled them onto the floor beside the cot. 

“Catra? Adora?” called Glimmer’s familiar voice.

“We’re in here! We’re fine! We’re—”

Catra put her mouth around Adora’s nipple.

“Absol—OH! Absolutely peachy!”

Bow and Glimmer arrived outside the cell, peering in.

“Hang on, we’ll get you guys out of there. Entrapta’s waiting with the ship,” Bow said, reaching back into his quiver to grope for his latest arrow tech. He’d been tinkering with a heat flare that combusted not on contact, but within a few seconds after launch. Per usual, the squad had given him a hard time about the impracticality of such a device—but per usual, the squad had fallen into just such the occasion which necessitated it.

“Uh, wait,” Adora protested, “Do either of you have my sword?”

“Yes, but, uh, why?” Glimmer responded, swinging it out from its makeshift holster on her back, “We took care of the bad guys already?”

“Because she’s naked,” Catra called out, thrilled with Adora’s immediate embarrassment. Adora yanked at Catra’s tail, which had been darting back and forth in amusement.

“Ow!”

“Yeah, my uh… clothes got uh… caught on the restraints, and they’re completely tattered. But we’re fine, otherwise! Just need my She-Ra garb…”

Bow and Glimmer exchanged a glance—whether it was a knowing one, Adora couldn’t be sure—and Glimmer slipped the sword through the bars, sliding it towards Adora. 

“Stand back from the bars, Glimmer,” Bow warned, pulling the flare arrow back.

Adora glimpsed down at the woman still below her, the woman still aroused, still smiling up at her. She leaned in and hovered just above her lips, speaking only to her.

“I’ll wreck you later, force captain.”

Catra closed the gap, forging a kiss.

“Promise?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and if you've gotten here, thank you for reading! This is my first time posting on this site, so please feel free to nudge me in the right direction with regard to formalities/tags/site jargon/etc.


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